*Not* Just Like That

If I had a dime for every eye roll I got when mentioning Sex In The City, I’d punch myself in the face. But hey, it’s a delightful treat that every gal enjoys from time to time. (The show, not the punch). Even those who hate it or celebrate it ironically can’t help but discuss their favorite character, season, or moment. But for some reason, it seems to me, us women, always need a little hate in our love.

Of all the shows, fads, and family members that have yet to capture my failed manic-pixie-dream-girl attention over the years, Sex & The City has become a staple. A dear, dear friend. Being one of those kids who sat five inches from the TV, dead-eyed and open-mouthed, I was fascinated with film tropes that predicted the future. My favorite was the quick-witted cameos of endless remakes, which are now abused by the blockbusters of today. I know, odd interests. I also used to listen to Carole King for hours on repeat. I was like a weird twelve-year-old divorcee. But here we are today, inundated, disgusted, as well as reluctantly won over from time to time by these sequels, prequels and “reimaginings” of the same films and tv shows over and over again. It’s not our fault we’re ground down by the world and seeking comfort in nostalgia. We’re sitting ducks for trash.

Now, the Sex and the City series -- which was a six-year pile up of disillusioned gold along with two deliciously hacky and campy films (first ones hacky, second ones campy, but don’t you dare get me started on that because I will fight you physically) -- has been with me all the way from gangly preteen to unsure woman. I have enjoyed the wit, puns, style and the indescribable connection of all the characters in this fast-paced reality. I have continued to enjoy the series and movies as my impressionable mind has evolved. The amount of time and thought that I and every woman on this earth has put into finding out which character most represents their personal essence probably falls along the same lines of men discussing Predator versus Alien. Or insert whatever topic dudes discuss, I don't know.

Just like the movie “Jaws”, Sex and the Citys’ theme song, when played, immediately captures any female’s attention with only the first two notes. Even if you’re not going to watch it, a true fan waits just a little to see which season is playing. If you don’t know from the dialogue, then Carrie’s hair style will give it away. It’s a Pavlov’s Dog experiment for women who keep trying to visit the past.

Last year the show reinvented itself again by adapting the series BACK to television. Which was beyond exciting! In a world filled with comfort. Finally! More comfort. But as we watched, we realized it had been infiltrated. There was more commentary about our country’s current political status than our beloved flawed characters’ familiar journeys. In addition to changing the framework, they also renamed the show to “And Just Like That”. Which is the main character, Carries Bradshaw’s signature sign-off for every article she wrote in each episode whilst looking for love in the big apple. It’s like changing the title of “Toy Story” to “To Infinity and Beyond.”

I read an interview -- actually I saw a clip, to be honest, it was a TikTok, of Sarah Jessica Parker, the lead actor and producer of the series answering questions about the upcoming show. The interviewer innocently asks, “What have the girls been up to since we last saw them?” Sara Jessica Parker (Or “SJP” for the Trekkies) answered this ignorant fool by responding, “Well, these WOMEN, NOT GIRLS have been...” and I immediately kept scrolling. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my SJP. But the lady gets a little mouthy from time to time and I’m just here to see some rich women talking in New York. I’m not always mentally and emotionally ready to absorb the large amount of pretension and self-importance this woman can exude. It’s satisfyingly annoying, but I got my fix.

Now, the first season of “And Just Like That” is an uncomfortable experience. It kills off our beloved Mr. Big, the symbol of every woman’s ungettable, unhealthy obsession. The motivation behind this rewrite was due to the actor’s real-life cancellation scandal. Plus Samantha, the backbone of the show, the woman whose sexual zingers were the perfect button to her oversexualized character. She has now moved to London? A place so not sexy and so NOT Samantha. Her character has been reduced to a couple of text messages, due to a real-life falling out with SJP. Lots of real-life stuff here. I know!! It’s probably too much to handle. And even if you haven’t watched the show, Don’t worry! It gets worse.

After the avalanche of social commentary that falls upon us, leaving uncomfortable examples of inclusion and afterschool special acting in its wake, we then get pummeled over the head with a no man’s land of ageism jokes. And with all of our characters now in their 60s and 90s, it just feels humiliating. Then again, I crave a touch of humanity after a long day’s work. But that’s just me.

A few more changes. There is a redemption-for-Steve movement going on since Miranda has left him and their 21-year relationship for a nonbinary non-funny stand-up comedian named Che Diaz. Also, Miranda has cucked Steve the whole show and is now pulling the biggest cuck of all and..... okay maybe she has stayed in line with her character, now that I think about it.

But all the other characters have stepped out of their identities. It’s like putting all the Marvel Characters into an office and changing their powers to something that has to deal with office work. In addition to filling the gaps in the storyline with every touchy political statement you can imagine, the acting is almost nonexistent. The actors are like stumbling baby giraffes trying to use the correct pronouns. But oh, in the midst of all this shocking misery, which seems like a huge hoax by SJP to make us all hate-watch the show (nobody can be THAT woke) has calmed down in the second season.

In just one shot, I remembered why I was mesmerized by this show for all these years. Carrie rushes down the steps of her apartment to make it just in time to the Met Gala, the most popular event of the year, and with nothing to wear and time running out she chooses the wedding dress she wore when she was left at the altar. I gasped! Not only for the message which after one full season finally felt sincere, showing us inner strength and redemption - but fashion! Fashion, a universal shared commodity, whether you care about it or not. You undoubtedly create yourself every day in the clothes you wear and in this show the characters wore their clothes like they were wearing their souls.

Always willing to change and be open to whatever comes next. The costumes in this series were works of art, extending the characters’ spirit and reminding us that they were always authentically themselves, no matter where they were or who they were with. I’d forgotten what excitement that element of the show brings me. With one quick shot of a woman rushing down the classic brownstone steps to make it to the ball, I was brought back to love.

Now back to the cynicism. Remember in movies when you used to quote a line from the guy who had one great memorable line? Every person had their place and had a moment that helped make up the heartbeat of the film. We have that today but the opposite. We are not absorbing, we are being absorbed. Every moment is now an opportunity that feels more like a speedy Netflix Frankenstein-like reality project, full of product placement for trailers.

But as for my ladies in “And Just Like That” (gosh that’s exhausting to type, let alone pronounce) -- these once majestic creatures, who thrived in their natural habitat of New York City, which producers claimed “was like one of the main characters itself” (God, I love that unnecessary anecdote so much), are now reduced to manufactured moments clinging for the approval of the youth today by destroying its essence and making us cling to any semblance of the show we once knew.

And just like that, with Samantha’s return humanity is saved! She will be appearing in a quick cameo in tomorrow’s episode (maybe she was going to appear the whole time and they just made us think she would never return, but that would be crazy). I don’t care how the sausage is made, I am ecstatic to see her back in her role, and millions and millions of aging girls will be waiting with bated breath for one quick-witted sexual innuendo and the state of affairs between the two actresses will have no bearing whatsoever on this special 25th anniversary commemorative appearance. We will just sit back quietly and enjoy this wonderful surprise for what it is and be eternally grateful, and not even discuss their past feud or how much money it took to get her there. Love and hate, baby. Love and hate.